


under summer skies

by thewriterofperfectdisasters



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Banter, Fluff, Kinda, M/M, Secret Relationship, Texting, Wedding Dates, god idek guys, i don't want to talk about that one, i'm back to tag oops, innuendos, it's 3am i'll tag it tomorrow, sexually suggestive vegetables, tinder au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:07:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21757282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewriterofperfectdisasters/pseuds/thewriterofperfectdisasters
Summary: Laurent hummed. ‘It’s nice not needing a full wetsuit if I want to go swimming at a beach.’Damen gave a low whistle. ‘You in a wetsuit though.’Laurent raised an eyebrow at Damen, who giggled in response. ‘Bold of you to assume I’d ever wear a wetsuit.’‘Even to swim at a beach near Arles?’‘The only people who swim near Arles fear nothing and no one.’‘Does that include you?’‘Of course not,’ Laurent scoffed. ‘My greatest fear is seaweed touching my leg while I swim.’
Relationships: Auguste/Nikandros (Captive Prince), Damen/Laurent (Captive Prince)
Comments: 61
Kudos: 328





	under summer skies

**Author's Note:**

> surprise! it's me! finally uploading! it's been like, what, seven months? whoops. my bad, guys. uni kicked my ass and then my rbb did, bUT both are DONE so i am HERE and im ready to PESTER you.
> 
> i've been working on this for uh, months, and it's finally done! thank u to twitter for voting to finish this fic first! title from adore you by harry styles (and like, probably a shitload of generic love poems, lbr).
> 
> big thank u to kodie, who's been my sound board for this, and has listened so very patiently to me yell about it for uh, months. u the real mvp 💖

‘Guess who’s getting married!’ Auguste announced, before the video had even connected, leaving Laurent to stare at his own reflection in the black screen.

‘If it’s you and you’re holding up a ring,’ Laurent said, sipping his coffee, ‘I need you to know your camera isn’t on yet.’

‘Oh,’ Auguste said quietly. ‘Oops.’

Laurent rolled his eyes and settled back into his couch a little more. ‘Out of curiosity, _is_ it you?’ He jerked back as the screen went bright white. ‘Jesus Christ.’

‘Just me!’ Auguste grinned, holding up a hand. ‘And my engagement ring!’

Laurent frowned. ‘Is – I can’t see anything – is that the right hand?’

‘It’s – no,’ Auguste switched hands. ‘There!’

‘Oh, nice,’ Laurent said, tilting his screen a little. ‘Is that white gold?’

‘Platinum.’

‘Fancy.’

‘Aren’t you going to congratulate me?’

 _Oops._ ‘Congratulations. It’s going to be nice finally meeting your boyfriend,’ Laurent said drily. ‘I can’t believe you still haven’t brought him home.’

‘I didn’t want to jinx it,’ Auguste shrugged. ‘We’ve already decided on a date, so clear your calendar for next April.’

‘The entire month?’

‘No, you little shit. We haven’t got the _exact_ date. Just the month. We need to check availability at venues and stuff before we actually set the date.’

‘Is that how weddings usually go? Venue then date?’

‘Do I look like I’ve ever planned a wedding, Laurent?’ Auguste demanded. ‘Stop being a dick.’

Laurent raised an eyebrow. ‘What would you like me to be instead?’

‘My best man?’

‘Nice segue.’

‘Thanks,’ Auguste grinned. ‘So?’

‘Who are your other options?’ Laurent asked, tapping his finger against his chin and pretending to think about it.

‘I don’t have any other friends, Laurent.’

‘Rough.’

‘Laurent. Answer the question.’

Laurent rolled his eyes and sipped his coffee again. ‘Well, we can’t have you up there by yourself, Norman No-Friends.’

‘I hate you,’ Auguste said flatly.

‘You’re not allowed to hate me, then you’d definitely have no friends,’ Laurent mused.

Auguste disconnected the call. Called back moments later.

‘What?’ Laurent asked, as Auguste’s sheepish face appeared on his screen again.

‘You didn’t actually answer the question.’

‘Obviously, it’s a yes, dumbass.’

‘Oh. Right. Of course. Thank you.’

Laurent disconnected, feeling his cheeks heat up a little, and slipped into the Skype chat instead.

**Laurent:  
**you know i wouldn’t say no  
you’re my brother, do you seriously think i would turn you down

 **Auguste:  
**yes  
idk you don’t like to be the centre of attention

 **Laurent:  
**i love being the centre of attention fuck off  
also i love you so i kind of have to say yes

 **Auguste:  
**sorry what was that

 **Laurent:  
**nothing

 **Auguste:  
**you love me

 **Laurent:  
**regrettably

 **Auguste:  
**LMAO  
okay anyway  
i'll let u know when we have the date sorted  
like for work or whatever

 **Laurent:  
**cool 👍🏻

 **Auguste:  
**oh………..  
i just thought  
of somethign

 **Laurent:  
**what  
im not gonna like this am i

 **Auguste:  
**do u…….  
do u need a plus one  
do u WANT a plus one

 **Laurent:  
**hmm  
idk  
let me think about it

 **Auguste:  
**im sure i can set u up w someone  
nik probably has some hit friends idk  
*hot

 **Laurent:  
**im not gonna take one of ur fiance’s friends as my plus one  
KNOWING that everyone will expect us to Fuck

 **Auguste:  
**why did you write it like that  
why is it “Fuck”  
?

 **Laurent:  
**idk it just IS  
i gotta go ttyl  
go fuck ur fiance or something

 **Auguste:  
**…  
…  
that’s  
a great idea  
talk later!!

***

Early-March, and Auguste had set a date for Mid-April. He’d also told Laurent to bring a plus one, threatening him with one of Nik’s friends if he didn’t.

Laurent, however, being himself, didn’t have a steady partner, and had been rather lax in his searching for a date. At this rate, he was going to be taking a complete stranger to Auguste’s wedding, and that was absolutely the last thing he wanted to do.

So, naturally, he went to Tinder and made it his bio.

 **_Laurent, 24  
_ ** _My brother’s wedding is coming up in April. Need a plus one to fuck me* in my suit.  
  
*fuck me emotionally and remind me how I’ll be alone forever, thank you. _

Perfect.

***

Honestly, Laurent had been flicking almost indiscriminately through profiles. A very quick glance, the kind to entirely base judgement on their face, and Laurent slid them left and right. He was getting matches, but a look into their actual profiles had Laurent unmatching moments later.

He probably should’ve been a little more selective, but could he be bothered? Not really.

**_Tinder: You got a new match!_**

**_Tinder: Damen sent you a message_ **

Laurent frowned as he picked up his phone to read it. He didn’t even know who this Damen was.

**Damen:  
**hey! you need a wedding date?

Laurent narrowed his eyes and went to Damen’s profile. He was cute. Or like, not cute. Attractive in a way that had Laurent biting his lip as he went through his other photos and bits and pieces. _Very attractive._

**Me:  
**I do, yes. Next month.

 **Damen:  
**me too! my best friend is getting married.  
i need a date for that so like, you be mine, i’ll be yours?

 **Me:  
**Oh  
Maybe?  
When is it?

 **Damen:  
**April 13th  
You?

 **Me:  
**Also April 13  
So maybe not

 **Damen:  
**Damn **☹️  
**That doesn’t mean we can’t still talk though right?  
Would it be too presumptuous to ask you on a date anyway?

 **Me:  
**Oh

 **Damen:  
**Okay no problem  
I’m here if you wanna chat **😎✌🏻**

Laurent sighed. He hadn’t really come here for a boyfriend, more just a date. Or maybe the thing was that he didn’t just want a date. Maybe he did want a boyfriend. He still needed a date, but maybe it would stop Auguste assigning him someone if he had a legitimate excuse of being kind of seeing someone.

There was no reason Damen couldn’t be an excuse if he couldn’t be a date.

**Me:  
**I suppose we could go on a date.

***

‘Hi! Laurent?’

Laurent looked up from his phone and then… a little further up. Jesus, he hadn’t realised when Damen said _I’m tall_ it meant he was a fucking giraffe. ‘You can only be Damen.’

‘Can I?’ Damen grinned. ‘I can only be Damen?’

‘I’m not expecting any other enormous men to approach me, so…’ Laurent trailed off and resisted the urge to cringe at himself. He wasn’t starting this off well. ‘Sorry, it’s been a rough day. Yes, I’m Laurent.’

‘It’s fine,’ Damen shrugged and stuck his hand out. ‘Nice to meet you.’

Laurent raised an eyebrow at the hand, but shook it and glanced up at Damen in amusement. He really was very handsome. More so than his pictures had led Laurent to believe – not that they weren’t great pictures, they were arguably better than most, but people just tended to look better in photos than real life. That was apparently not the case here.

‘Coffee?’ Damen prompted, nodding to the café behind Laurent.

‘Please,’ Laurent agreed, ducking inside as Damen held the door open.

‘So,’ Damen said a few minutes later, after they’d placed their order and headed to a table, tiny numbered placard in hand. ‘You were saying – rough day?’

‘Ugh,’ Laurent rolled his eyes and dropped into one of the plush chairs they’d found in the corner by a window. ‘My brother trying to pull me into wedding planning.’

Damen hummed and nodded. ‘My friend does the same, but in his defence, I’m good to ask about catering.’

‘Why, because you eat so much food to maintain your status as an actual mountain of a man?’ Laurent sighed. ‘ _Sorry_.’

‘It’s fine,’ Damen laughed. ‘I’m a chef. I know how to build a good menu.’

‘Did he try to make you cater his wedding?’

Damen shrugged. ‘I sorta am? My family owns a restaurant down south and we’re uh, doing the food.’

‘Well, at least you can be sure you won’t get food poisoning, I guess.’

‘That’s true. What did your brother want from you?’

Laurent made a noise and straightened in his chair. ‘He wants me to write his vows, plan the honeymoon, and convince our father to lend him a pocket watch.’

‘Just a few light duties then, huh?’ Damen said drily. ‘What’s going to be hardest, do you think?’

‘The watch,’ Laurent said immediately. ‘My brother can be very careless at times.’

‘Not the vows?’

‘I’m a writer, vows are easy. It’s more directing him as _he_ writes, not doing them entirely for him.’

‘And the honeymoon?’

‘I know where they want to go, I’ve got their credit card, I like planning things,’ Laurent shrugged. ‘Like I said, pocket watch will be harder. Might end up having to break into my parents’ house while they’re out somewhere.’

‘Wow, a cat burglar.’

‘No, I’ll go in through the front door.’

Damen blinked. ‘I – yeah, just the –’

‘Large white hot chocolate and an Earl Grey?’ a waitress interrupted, appearing at their table with a tray. ‘Triple chocolate brownie and a mille-feuille?’

‘Tea and mille-feuille,’ Laurent said. ‘He’s the one ordering like an eight-year-old.’

The waitress laughed. ‘You’d be surprised. Is that everything?’

‘It is, thank you,’ Damen said, handing her the number placard.

‘Alright, enjoy,’ she smiled, leaving them to their food.

‘I really can’t believe you ordered chocolate everything,’ Laurent said stirring some honey into his tea. ‘Aren’t chefs supposed to have sophisticated taste?’

‘It’s not a competition,’ Damen said, using his spoon to scoop a marshmallow from his drink. ‘Sometimes you just need some chocolate.’

‘But a _triple_ chocolate brownie? And that drink?’

‘Not a fan of sweet stuff?’

‘In moderation.’ Laurent looked to his mille-feuille and hummed. ‘That being said, a brownie is easier to eat than this.’

‘Do it layer by layer.’

‘That’s cheating.’

‘That’s practical.’

***

The rest of their date went… well. Comfortable. Laurent hadn’t felt like that in a long time – maybe never – and it was _nice_. He had to keep reminding himself he barely knew Damen, when it was so easy. He was almost sad he wouldn’t be able to take Damen to Auguste’s wedding, because he would’ve made it more than bearable.

‘I hope this isn’t too forward,’ Damen said, as they sat on some swings in the playground of the city gardens, making a couple of parents scowl at them. ‘But I like you, Laurent.’

Laurent smiled, swinging idly. ‘I like you, too,’ he said, surprising himself a little with his willingness to admit it.

‘I’m sorry I can’t be your date to your brother’s wedding.’

‘Me too. I’m sorry I can’t be yours to your friend’s.’

‘Me too.’ Damen was quiet for about three seconds before, ‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Yeah? Actually,’ Laurent slid off the swing as a parent made to approach them. ‘We should go first.’

‘Just because it’s a playground doesn’t mean children have exclusive use,’ Damen muttered, as they headed off into the rest of the park.

‘I think it’s more just a courtesy thing. What was your question?’

‘Oh,’ Damen blushed and stuck his hands in his pockets. ‘Do you want to go on another date? Maybe dinner?’

Laurent was nodding before Damen even finished his sentence. ‘I would love dinner. Are you cooking?’

‘I could, if you want.’

‘I want to know what I’m missing out on by not being your date.’

Damen laughed. ‘Shall I recreate the menu, then?’

‘Well, I wouldn’t say no to a three course meal,’ Laurent said slyly.

‘I’ll see what I can do.’

‘I have a question for you now.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Even…’ Laurent paused and bit his lip. What if this was too much too soon? What if this date had been a fluke, and he and Damen weren’t actually as compatible as he thought at this moment? What if this was his _rose-tinted glasses_ moment?

‘Laurent?’

‘Even if you can’t be my date, do you mind if I tell my brother I’m dating someone? So he doesn’t pair me up with one of his fiancé’s groomsmen?’

‘Do you think he will if you don’t?’ Damen asked. ‘Kind of a shitty brother to force a partner on you.’

‘He means well,’ Laurent said lamely. ‘I just… wish he wouldn’t.’

‘Okay,’ Damen nodded. ‘That’s fair. I’ll be your fake boyfriend from a distance.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah, I’ll save you from a groomsman,’ Damen winked.

Laurent laughed. ‘Thanks.’

‘And if my friend cancels his wedding, I’ll even be a real date.’

***

‘Is it bad I kind of hope his friend cancels their wedding?’

Auguste hummed, the noise distorted a little through his webcam. ‘Maybe.’

‘Anyway,’ Laurent said, waving his hand dismissively. ‘You don’t need to heft a date on me. I’m officially off the market.’

‘That’s a pity, Nik’s best man is…’ Auguste let out a deep breath. ‘Very bangable.’

‘You’re engaged,’ Laurent said. ‘We’re literally workshopping your vows right now. You can’t call someone else _bangable_. You can’t call _anyone_ bangable. I’m banning that word.’

‘Aw, really?’ Auguste frowned. ‘I wanted to use it in my vows. _Oh Nikandros, the most bangable guy I have ever met –_ ’

‘I’m immediately vetoing that.’

‘You’re no fun.’

‘Sorry, do you really want to stand in front of a room of relatives and tell them how much you enjoy bottoming?’

Auguste gasped. ‘ _Who_ is telling you I’m a _bottom_?’

‘You.’

‘ _Me_?’

‘You might’ve been drunk, I don’t know. I got a series of Snapchats with a very long-winded explanation of…’ Laurent trailed off and fake-retched off to the side. ‘It’s burned into my retinas.’

‘Oh,’ Auguste blushed. ‘That… wasn’t meant for you.’

‘That’s comforting, but it’s a bit too late. Let’s never speak of it again.’

‘Agreed.’ Auguste was quiet for a moment, as he typed something into their shared Google document for his vows. ‘Are you _sure_ you don’t want to cheat on your alleged boyfriend?’

‘Quite, thanks,’ Laurent said, shooting him a look. ‘He’s nice, Auguste. He’s a good guy, and he’s attractive, and he wants to _cook_ for me.’

‘You’re picky as hell, does he know that?’

‘Auguste,’ Laurent said slowly, putting his mug of tea down. ‘Believe me when I say he could put a pile of weeds on the table in front of me and I would eat it happily.’

‘Wow. He must be quite something.’

Laurent nodded. ‘Anyway, we’re not here to talk about me. We’re here to talk about Nik. And you. And how much you like him.’

‘Love him,’ Auguste corrected. ‘I’m marrying for him a reason.’

‘Which is?’

‘Well, permanent claim over his dick for starters.’

Laurent groaned. ‘No! Shut up, don’t go there.’

‘Laurent, it’s so pretty. It’s so –’

‘I swear, if you describe –’

‘Gods, the _girth –_ ’

‘No!’ Laurent yelled, covering his ears. ‘Blocked! Reported!’

Auguste laughed as Laurent started humming loudly, and held up a piece of paper with **IT’S THICC!!** written across it.

Laurent hummed louder and darted a hand out to disconnect the call.

**Auguste:  
**WHAT WAS THAT FOR  
I WAS JUST GETTING TO THE GOOD PART

 **Laurent:  
**YOU MENTIONED THE BAD THING  
WE DONT TALK ABOUT UR FINACE’S DICK  
ITS BEEN ZERO DAYS SINCE YOU SCARRFED EM

 **Auguste:  
**dude youre such a baby  
it’s just a dick omg

 **Laurent:  
**i donT NEED A DESCRIPTION  
OF NIK’S DICK

 **Auguste:  
**i think ur wrong tho

_Auguste is calling._

_Call declined._

**Auguste:  
**oh COME ON  
picK UP THE CALL  
blease laurent  
im so dumb i cant write these vows by myseLF

 **Laurent:  
**too bad  
shoulda coulda woulda

 **Auguste:  
**laurent….. wisest brother….. whomst i love……  
blease help me  
i promise not to say anything about the cursed topic

 **Laurent:  
**if you so much as LOOK like you’re THINKING about it  
i'll hang up on ur dumb ass  
yes?

 **Auguste:  
****☹️  
**yeah that’s fair

***

Laurent didn’t know what to expect when he showed up at Damen’s apartment. Alleged apartment. He wasn’t totally sure he wasn’t about to be murdered, but Damen had buzzed him up and sounded happy and normal, so Laurent was hopeful he’d still be alive to be Auguste’s best man.

Auguste would kill him if Damen murdered him.

Lucky for him, Damen opened the door, smiling and with an apron tied around his waist, over sweatpants and a hoodie. ‘Hey!’ Damen greeted, standing back and waving him in. ‘You made it!’

‘Well, yeah,’ Laurent said stepping in and looking around Damen’s apartment. It wasn’t… what he’d expected. The décor was industrial, homey verging on hipster, with exposed brick walls and beams, wooden floors, and plants in macramé hangers, and pots scattered across the floor. The furniture was worn but neat, a huge leather couch and slightly scratched bookcase dominating one side of the living room, a couple of armchairs, and a plush rug to tie it together.

‘Sorry, it’s a mess,’ Damen said, nodding to the pile of magazines on the glass top coffee table. He cleared his throat. ‘Come through to the kitchen.’

‘Sure,’ Laurent said, toeing his boots off next to the door, and following Damen through an arch into the kitchen where more plants were scattered in the window, over the work tops, in more macramé hangers. ‘You have a lot of plants.’

Damen laughed as he bent to peer in the window of the oven. ‘Most of them are herbs. I like to cook with fresh ones.’

‘Herbs are… good,’ Laurent said lamely. He clenched his fingers around the bottle in his hand and he looked down, forgetting he had it. ‘Oh, I don’t know if you drink wine, but I brought wine. I was told to always bring a gift.’

‘Thank you, that’s very kind,’ Damen said, taking the outstretched bottle and inspecting the label. ‘Looks like it could actually go very well with what I’m cooking. Good choice.’

‘Really?’ Laurent asked. ‘I don’t really know anything about wine. I don’t drink it often.’

‘The wine gods pointed you in the right direction,’ Damen winked. ‘We don’t have to open it, if you don’t want to. I can whip up something light to go with the food. Non-alcoholic,’ he added, at Laurent’s raised eyebrow.

‘Sure,’ Laurent agreed. ‘Dazzle me.’

Damen grinned, and that alone fulfilled Laurent’s request. He turned back to his food and hummed, clearly thinking what he could pair with whatever he had in the oven. ‘’Kay,’ he reached up into a cupboard and brought out two tall glasses. ‘Can you get me about… I think eight should do it. Eight mint leaves? It’s the –’

‘The one with the big, flat leaves,’ Laurent finished, heading to the mint on the opposite site of the kitchen and picking the leaves, careful not to bare one area. ‘I know what mint looks like.’

‘Are you sure it’s mint?’ Damen asked, glancing at the leaves in Laurent’s hand. ‘Not basil?’

‘I…’ Laurent looked to the leaves and frowned. ‘Are you fucking with me? This is mint.’

‘Yeah, I’m fucking with you, sorry.’

‘Damen, if you can’t tell the difference between mint and basil, I’m worried for you in your capacity as a chef.’

Damen had the decency to look a little sheepish. ‘Sorry, couldn’t help it.’

‘That was mean. You really had me for a second.’

‘I know, I’m sorry.’

‘I’m sure you’ll find a way to make it up to me.’

‘Yeah,’ Damen looked him over quickly, then took the mint from him to wash it quickly in the sink. ‘I’m sure I will.’

Laurent cleared his throat and leaned against the bench next to him. ‘So, what are you making?’

‘For food or for drink?’

‘Both. Either.’

‘Mojito,’ Damen said, wandering around his kitchen to get things he needed. ‘Non-alcoholic, as requested. If that’s okay?’

‘I haven’t actually had one before, but I’ll try it,’ Laurent smiled encouragingly. ‘Food?’

‘I, uh,’ Damen flushed a little. ‘I didn’t have time to get to the store today, so I just cooked with what I had in my fridge.’

‘Are you feeding me _leftovers_?’

‘No! It’s briám, like ratatouille.’

‘Ratatouille?’

‘Pretty much.’

‘I like ratatouille.’

‘Oh, good. It’s uh, not quite done, so you can still change your mind if you want,’ Damen said, finishing Laurent’s drink and handing it to him. ‘But I hope you don’t.’

‘Why would I change my mind?’ Laurent asked, taking a sip. ‘That’s… not bad.’

Damen smiled. ‘I don’t know, just… in case.’

‘Are you expecting me to leave?’

‘Who knows, maybe you’re only using me for food.’

‘Well, I haven’t had the food yet,’ Laurent shrugged, a little surprised to realise how at ease and comfortable he was here.

He liked this. He liked being with Damen. He liked being in his kitchen, surrounded by plants and teasing him about the food he could smell, that Damen had cooked for _him_. He really _liked_ Damen, and he felt like he was dangerously close to wanting more from Damen than their current arrangement.

What even _was_ their current arrangement? Were they fake dating with the intention of fooling someone who didn’t even live in the same _city_? Were they on a date? Were they friends? Were they on the way to actually dating?

Laurent didn’t have a fucking clue, and he didn’t want to ask only to find out he’d been reading more into this than necessary. Damen had agreed to be his excuse not to be pawned off on a groomsman at Auguste’s wedding, but Laurent got the feeling that was just the sort of person Damen was – a knight in shining armour, ready to save anyone that asked from pretty much anything.

And damn, if that wasn’t something that made Laurent like him more. He wished, not for the first time, that Damen could join him at the wedding, even if just to keep this feeling.

‘Laurent?’

Laurent looked up from where he’d apparently been staring at Damen’s floor. ‘Sorry, what?’

‘Are you okay?’ Damen asked, amused. ‘You looked like you were having a bit of a moment.’

‘Yeah, I… love your floors.’

‘Really?’

‘No, but let’s pretend that’s what it was.’

‘Okay, sure,’ Damen clinked his glass against Laurent’s. ‘Cheers.’

‘Cheers,’ Laurent murmured, taking another sip of his drink.

‘It’s almost done,’ Damen announced, peeking inside his oven. He set his drink down on the small table in the corner of the kitchen, and untied the apron from around his waist, pulling it over his head and hanging it from a hook beside the arch to the living room.

Laurent raised an eyebrow. ‘I feel overdressed, looking at you.’

Damen looked down to his hoodie and sweats and hummed thoughtfully. ‘I could change if you want.’

‘No, it’s your apartment. You’re allowed to be comfortable.’

‘Are you saying if I go to your apartment, you’ll be hanging out in a onesie or something?’

‘A onesie?’ Laurent asked, watching him take out plates and set them on his bench. ‘No, I don’t wear clothes at home. Totally naked all day.’

Damen froze, letting a plate slip from his fingers. ‘Ah, shit.’

Laurent bit his lip. ‘Oops?’ he said, putting his drink on the bench and bending to start scooping up shards of crockery from the kitchen floor. ‘Sorry.’

‘Not your fault,’ Damen cleared his throat, appearing with a small dustpan and brush in hand. ‘Sorry, I just –’

‘I’ll stop talking about being naked, shall I?’ Laurent asked lowly, watching Damen close his eyes and take a deep breath.

‘At least until we’ve finished the food. I’ll either burn my hand getting it from the oven, or I’ll stab myself with something while we’re eating.’

‘I’m tempted to take that as a challenge.’

‘Don’t take this the wrong way, but please don’t.’

Laurent laughed, depositing his shards in Damen’s dustpan. ‘If you insist.’

‘Only because I like having my limbs intact.’

‘I suppose that’s fair.’

Damen stood with his shattered plate to wrap it in newspaper and discard into the trash. He turned back to Laurent with a sigh. ‘Okay. Out of the oven.’

‘Do you want me to pay you for that plate?’ Laurent asked, watching him carefully pull the tray out and set it on a trivet on the bench.

‘It’s fine, I have plenty of plates. I’m sure you’ll find some way to make it up to me,’ Damen winked. ‘Go sit. I’ll bring it over.’

Laurent fought the blush from his cheeks and nodded, going over to sit at the table. He watched Damen as he carefully plated the food, moving around his kitchen to get things with a practiced ease, humming as he arranged garnishes over the plates.

It felt so normal, being here like this with Damen.

When Damen brought the food over and set the plate in front of Laurent, there was a light in his eyes like he knew he’d been thinking again, but this time was feeling generous enough not to call him out on it.

The food was _good_. Simple and flavourful and delicious. He hoped Damen wasn’t a one trick pony when it came to cooking, but he wouldn’t mind if he was. They made soft, sparse conversation as they ate, finishing with clean plates and satisfied stomachs.

‘Do you want to share?’

Laurent blinked. ‘Hmm?’

‘You’ve been thinking a lot. I might not know you super well, but I know when there’s something on someone’s mind,’ Damen shrugged. ‘You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want, but I can probably give you some advice, if you need it.’

‘Oh,’ Laurent laughed quietly. ‘No, I don’t think it’s something you can help with.’ _I don’t want to risk this._

‘That’s cool,’ Damen said, standing and taking their plates over to the sink, rinsing them and sliding them into his dishwasher. ‘Can I tell you what _I’ve_ been thinking about?’

‘Sure,’ Laurent nodded, bringing over their empty glasses. ‘I’m not very good with advice, but I’ll try.’

‘My problem, you see,’ Damen started, flicking the crushed mint leaves into a small compost bin, ‘is that I really like this person.’

‘Oh.’

‘I really like being around them, spending time with them and stuff,’ Damen slipped the glasses into the dishwasher as well. ‘But I don’t know if this person wants the same things I do.’

‘What sort of things do you want?’ Laurent asked tentatively, wondering if Damen was talking about him, or someone else he was considering taking to his friend’s wedding. He knew he was still looking for a date, so maybe he’d found a contender.

‘I want to make something more out of a passing connection, something more than a temporary arrangement.’

‘Oh.’ Laurent frowned. ‘I don’t really… know what advice I can give you here.’

Damen hummed. ‘I don’t know if I’m so caught up in this person right now that everything could just be imaginary. Fleeting. I want to know if it’s real – or if it _could_ be – but I don’t know how to ask without it being… too much.’

‘Are you…’ Laurent crossed his arms and leaned against Damen’s bench. ‘Are you asking me how _I_ would ask someone? Or if I think you should… I don’t know – if you should step back?’

‘I –’ Damen cut himself off with a sigh. ‘I don’t know what I’m asking, either.’

Laurent nodded slowly. ‘Do you want to workshop it? I’m good with words, I suppose.’

A smile tugged at Damen’s lips and he rolled his eyes a little. ‘I don’t really think I need to workshop it. Just tell me one thing.’

‘Okay.’

‘What would you do if there was someone right in front of you, and you wanted to make a move, but you weren’t sure if they wanted more than what you had already?’

Laurent hummed, studying Damen’s face for a moment. There was something vulnerable there, and Laurent might’ve been reading too much into it, but he thought – maybe – this might be his chance. He thought there was a good chance Damen… Damen might’ve been talking about him.

He was leaning against the bench beside Laurent, hands resting on the edge of the granite, relaxed in posture, but something thrumming under his skin with tension when he looked at Laurent.

‘What would I do?’ Laurent asked softly.

‘What would you do?’ Damen agreed, watching him as Laurent pushed off and unfolded his arms, coming slowly to stand in front of him.

‘I would ask,’ Laurent said, ‘but if that wasn’t an option.’

‘If that wasn’t an option?’

Laurent pursed his lips and looked up to Damen, his eyes wide as he held himself perfectly still before him.

‘I think,’ Laurent murmured, flexing a hand, before he brought it slowly up Damen’s bare forearm, ‘I’d be very cautious.’

‘Cautious,’ Damen breathed.

‘I’d keep watching them,’ Laurent continued, fingers now over Damen’s bicep, and moving them up to the side of his neck, where he paused, feeling Damen’s racing heart under his fingertips, ‘and I’d make sure I wasn’t wrong.’

‘Wasn’t wrong,’ Damen’s breath hitched, and his eyes fluttered shut for a second, as Laurent’s touch ghosted over his cheek. ‘Okay.’

Laurent placed his hand on Damen’s jaw for a second, before he withdrew it and stepped back. ‘And then, I think if they hadn’t objected yet, I would kiss them.’

‘Oh?’ Damen asked, his fingers now clenching the edge of the bench. ‘You would?’

‘Mm,’ Laurent nodded. ‘Do you want to know how?’

‘Gods help me, I do.’

‘I would start slow,’ Laurent said, because apparently he had no self-control, and desperately wanted to see if this was going to end where he thought it was. ‘I would make sure my advances weren’t unwanted, and I’d wait for them to respond.’

‘And if they did?’

‘If they did, then…’ Laurent trailed off. ‘I think you’d need to assess the situation and react accordingly.’

Damen relaxed at the change in Laurent’s tone and tipped his head back, laughing quietly as he looked up to his ceiling. When he turned back to Laurent, there was obvious affection in his gaze. ‘You know I’m talking about you, right?’

Laurent ducked his head a little to laugh as well. ‘Yeah, I had a suspicion, but I didn’t want to risk it.’

‘I do.’

‘You do what?’

‘Want to risk it,’ Damen said, a blush high on his cheeks. ‘If that’s okay.’

‘Yeah,’ Laurent agreed softly. ‘That’s okay.’

***

Laurent returned home that night, dizzy with emotion. He pushed his door closed, and leaned against it with a smile on his face.

They’d reached a new understanding, which was they both wanted more than their temporary arrangement of a fake boyfriend to get out of being paired up. Their first kiss had been soft, gentler than Laurent had expected of Damen, until it became more, almost feverish as Damen spun them and lifted Laurent onto his bench, hands under his thighs. Laurent’s smile got a little bigger as he lifted a hand to touch his lips, chasing the memory of Damen on them.

They’d gone no further than that, but Laurent had _wanted_ it. He still did, but he didn’t regret stopping it at making out in Damen’s kitchen. And then his couch. And then his couch again after Damen remembered he had baklava for desert, and they kissed with the remnants of filo and honey between them.

**Damen:  
**is it weird i kinda miss you already 😬

 **Me:  
**maybe, but i don’t care

 **Damen:  
**🥰 okay

 **Me:  
**okay

 **Damen:  
**you’re home, right? not texting me and driving?

 **Me:  
**no i'm at home :)

 **Damen:  
**kay. sleep well x

 **Me:  
**you too  
x

Laurent locked his phone and took a breath, pushing himself off his door and heading towards his bedroom. Probably a futile exercise. He didn’t think he’d sleep much tonight.

***

‘I don’t believe you have a boyfriend,’ Auguste said, voice tinny in Laurent’s ear over the line. ‘It sounds like an elaborate ploy to get out of Nik’s very hot best man.’

‘I have my own very hot best man, thanks,’ Laurent said, holding up an iceberg lettuce and humming as he looked it over. ‘So I don’t need yours.’

‘I want to meet him.’

‘Too bad.’

‘Just Skype me when you get home or something. FaceTime me next time you see him,’ Auguste suggested.

‘Hah,’ Laurent put the lettuce back down and picked up the one next to it. ‘You’re getting married in like, two weeks, and I won’t meet your fiancé until he’s your _husband_. You don’t get to meet my boyfriend until he’s at _least_ a fiancé.’

‘Sorry, how long have you been together? And you’re already planning a wedding?’

‘You can’t tell me you weren’t putting together a board on Pinterest the day you met Nik.’

‘Uh, it was _six_ days after, thanks.’

Laurent frowned as he reached the mushrooms, already looking slightly worse for wear, a little brown around the edges. ‘Look, next time you’re over here, you can meet him,’ he said, moving to the carrots. ‘That should give me a few months to emotionally prepare him for…’

‘Me?’

‘For you, yes.’

‘I’m a fucking delight, Laurent. No one needs to be prepared for me.’

‘You’re biased.’

‘So are you.’

Laurent dropped a bag of carrots in his basket. ‘Well, you got me there.’

‘Just, like, FaceTime me next when you’re together.’

‘No.’

‘Laurent!’ Auguste protested. ‘You’re my little brother, I gotta make sure you’re making good choices.’

‘You know, our parents always say that _I’m_ the responsible one, and you’re the problem child. I should’ve met Nik by now,’ Laurent moved away from the vegetables and stood in front of the meat fridges, staring at packages of free-range chicken thighs as Auguste spluttered in his ear. ‘You know it’s true.’

‘It is _not_.’

‘It is.’

‘Laurent, I’m allowed to be concerned about you! You’re so like, young.’

‘Okay, just because I’m still in my twenties while you’re out here in your _thirties_ doesn’t make me _young_ ,’ Laurent said, moving down to the chicken breasts and humming at his options.

‘It does, actually. Do you know what I was doing in my twenties?’

‘Yes, you were being a slut,’ Laurent said blithely, earning a filthy look from a middle-aged woman beside him at the fridges. ‘Fucking everything in sight,’ he added, for her benefit.

‘Why do you need to put it like that?’ Auguste asked. ‘I mean, it’s true, but?’

‘Because I said the word “slut” in a grocery store and the woman next to me got offended,’ Laurent said, as she walked off, sending him looks backwards as she went towards the dairy section. ‘Anyway, I’m responsible. I’m making good choices. You don’t need to meet him.’

‘But I _want_ to,’ Auguste whined. ‘I want to see the guy you’re dating to pass over Nik’s best man, who – by the way – is _so_ your type, I don’t think there could possibly be a better match for you.’

‘Well, I think you’re wrong, because I’ve found him, and he lives here, and he cooks for me and is very big and strong and will protect me from your best man’s advances,’ Laurent said, holding back a sigh at the memory of Damen last night, shirtless and making pancakes.

‘Have you banged yet?’

‘What?’ Laurent grabbed a pack of chicken and added it to his basket, wandering down to the baking and spices aisle to grab some stuff Damen had recommended. ‘No.’

‘Why not?’ Auguste demanded. ‘If he’s so perfect, why aren’t you _on_ that?’

‘Because we’re taking it slow!’ Laurent hissed. ‘Gods, if anything happens, you’ll be the first to know, fuck.’

‘Yes. Fuck. Get it out of your system then immediately jump on Nik’s best man.’

‘What’s wrong with you?’ Laurent asked, searching the racks and frowning when he realised it wasn’t alphabetised. ‘What is wrong with the people stocking the shelf, actually. Who doesn’t organise their damn spices?’

‘Me?’

‘You’re a heathen.’

‘No, I’m normal, thanks. Can I at least get a _verbal_ description?’

‘Of what?’ Laurent asked, heading further down the aisle and chucking a couple of premixed brownie cups in his basket.

‘At _least_ his dick.’

‘Haven’t seen it.’

‘Wait, so you’re _actually_ going slow?’

‘Yes. Next question.’

‘What does he look like?’

‘Hot.’

‘Wow. So helpful,’ Auguste said drily.

‘I aim to please,’ Laurent rounded into the freezer section and headed to the ice cream with a small, happy sigh.

‘Ooh, what was _that_? Did you spot him?’

‘Yeah. There he is. Ben.’

‘Ben? That’s his name?’

‘And Jerry.’

‘You’re embarrassing,’ Auguste sounded like he was rolling his eyes. ‘Okay, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later to finish off the vows.’

‘Uh huh. Bye,’ Laurent slipped his phone into his back pocket and grabbed a tub at random, barely having time to add it to his basket before his phone started going off again. ‘What now?’ he asked, not bothering to check who it was.

‘Wow, do you greet everyone like that or just me?’ Damen asked jokingly.

‘Oh, Damen,’ Laurent let out an awkward chuckle. ‘Sorry, I only just finished talking to my brother. What’s up?’

‘Just want to see what you’re doing tomorrow? I’ve been asked to change my flights and arrive a few days earlier for my friend’s wedding. He said he’s having some problems with… something.’

‘That sounds suspicious.’

‘I know, right?’ Damen agreed. ‘So I was wondering if you want to do something.’

Laurent hummed and turned towards the frozen vegetables. ‘Yeah, we can do something. What were you thinking?’

‘Maybe get breakfast? Go to the beach?’

‘The beach?’

‘Yeah, you know, where there’s sand and the ocean, and we can re-enact that scene of the people washed up and making out in the water?’

‘Do you mean _From Here to Eternity_?’ Laurent asked.

‘Let’s say yes?’

Laurent huffed and grabbed a bag of waffle fries. ‘Okay, sure.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah, why not, I haven’t been to the beach in a while. Do you want me to bring anything?’

‘Just yourself. Clothing optional.’

‘Clothing isn’t optional in a public place,’ Laurent pointed out, as he headed towards toiletries. He wasn’t sure if he had any sunscreen, and he didn’t think Damen would remember.

‘What if it’s a nude beach?’ Damen asked.

‘I don’t think we have any of those here in Delpha. Maybe down in Ios they do.’

‘Maybe one day I’ll have to take you to one in Ios.’

‘You’d have to get me drunk first,’ Laurent said, finding the highest SPF lotion and chucking it in his basket. ‘Ah, fuck.’

‘What?’

‘I’m at the grocery store and I don’t have my reusable bags.’

‘They’re like, a dollar to buy.’

‘I’ve already spent several hundred dollars on them, Damen.’

‘Then… carry your stuff?’ Damen suggested.

‘I don’t think my arms are…’ Laurent frowned. ‘Arm… enough.’

‘You should invite me when you go grocery shopping. I like to think my arms are arm enough,’ Damen said thoughtfully.

‘Oh yeah, you could probably carry this with one hand, but I’m just a standard-sized human.’

‘Aw, I think you’re cute.’

‘Thanks, but that won’t help me carry my groceries.’

‘I mean, give me like twenty minutes and I’ll come help if you really want.’

‘I’ll just,’ Laurent sighed, ‘buy another bag.’

‘Oh, hey, actually,’ Damen said. ‘Can you get me something?’

‘Sure.’

‘Can you get a cucumber?’

‘A cucumber?’

‘Yeah. And an eggplant. Some zucchinis.’

‘Just basically every dick shaped food I can find?’ Laurent asked, heading back to the vegetable section anyway.

‘What? No, I need the cucumber for a salad.’

‘And the other stuff?’

Damen coughed. ‘Yeah, that might’ve been to go with the theme. But if you want some for yourself, feel free to buy it, I’m not stopping you.’

‘I’ve already got carrots in here, I think three phallic vegetables in such a small amount of stuff might be too much for my cashier to handle,’ Laurent said, coming to stand in front of the cucumbers. ‘How big do you want it?’

‘The cucumber?’

‘Yes, Damen.’

‘Uh, just like, average sized.’

‘Is that –’

‘ _No_ , it’s not a metaphor, how dare you?’

Laurent laughed, adding a cucumber and heading towards the checkouts, resigned to his fate of buying another reusable bag. ‘Ugh,’ he said quietly, seeing who he’d ended up behind. ‘You speak Veretian, yeah?’

‘Yeah?’

Laurent hovered a little bit back from the woman in front of him, who sent him another suspicious look, but less dirty than the one from earlier, when she’d overheard him calling Auguste a slut. _‘I’m behind a woman,’_ Laurent murmured in Veretian, _‘who overheard me having a conversation with my brother about his…_ proclivities.’

‘His proclivities?’ Damen repeated. ‘What proclivities?’

_‘I told him he was a slut in his youth.’_

‘Oh?’

 _‘It was true!’_ Lauren protested, starting to unload his basket on the conveyor belt. ‘Oh – oh _no_ ,’ he said, automatically switching back to the common tongue in his shock at realising what else he’d picked up in his journey through the store. ‘Oh _no_.’

‘What?’

‘I have –’ Laurent changed to hushed Veretian again. _‘I have carrots, your cucumber, and a bottle of lube.’_

‘Lube?’ Damen repeated. ‘Are you making plans without me?’

 _‘No! I just –’_ Laurent could feel a blush on his face as he covertly heaped other things on the small, innocuous bottle. _‘I have hobbies outside of you!’_

‘Hobbies _inside_ you too, huh?’

‘Damen!’ Laurent hissed, as the woman turned around to glare at him. _‘Oh, good, now she’s staring at me again.’_

‘Then give her something to stare about.’

Laurent opened and closed his mouth a few times, as he finished unloading his basket and grabbed a reusable bag from the end of the checkout to slap on top. ‘Fine.’

‘Fine?’

Laurent shifted the bag and the mound of stuff from on top of the lube, where it rolled a little closer to his cucumber on the belt. ‘So it’s not flavoured,’ he said, staring at the woman, as she casually flicked her gaze to his items. ‘But it’ll do.’

‘What?’

‘I can’t wait for later,’ Laurent said, a little forceful, still making direct eye contact with her. ‘Damen, my boyfriend, who I will be seeing later tonight.’

‘Oh really?’ Damen sounded interested now. ‘Are you doing this purely for her benefit, or are you going to be… _filling_ my fantasies later?’

‘ _Don’t push your luck,’_ Laurent muttered in Veretian, before adding, ‘I’ll be ready and waiting for you to get home, _open_ to all possibilities.’

‘Wow, you must really not like this woman,’ Damen laughed. ‘Seriously though?’

Laurent waited until the woman, beet red and looking a little furious, yanked her receipt from the server and stalked away with her cart. ‘No, not seriously. Food is for eating, not shoving up my ass, Damen.’

The cashier giggled as she ripped the tag from the bag and started scanning his items.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Laurent said, covering his phone. ‘She’s been giving me looks the whole way through the store.’

‘It’s cool,’ the cashier said. ‘Do you want to file a complaint about her?’

‘No, it’s fine, thank you. It added some fun to my night.’

‘Well, you’ve got lube,’ Damen said in his ear, so maybe he hadn’t covered the phone as well as he’d thought. ‘So maybe you’ll have more fun later.’

‘If I do,’ Laurent said, taking his hand away completely, ‘that is entirely at my discretion.’

‘But I want it to be _my_ discretion, too.’

‘Too bad.’

Damen huffed in Laurent’s ear. ‘I know, we’re going slow, I promise I don’t mind. That was all a joke.’

‘I know, it’s fine, Damen.’

‘But also, I wouldn’t turn you down?’ Damen hummed. ‘Not to put any pressure on you at all.’

‘I know that too,’ Laurent said, wedging the phone between his ear and shoulder to take some cash from his wallet for his stuff. ‘If I thought you were, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.’

‘What conversation would we be having?’

‘None.’

‘That’s fair.’

Laurent took his change and receipt from the cashier. ‘Thank you, and again, I’m so sorry.’

‘It’s cool! Have a good night,’ the cashier smiled, putting his bag on the end of the counter to take.

Laurent dumped his change and receipt in the bag and headed back to his car, Damen humming in his ear. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Oh, y’know, just… thinking of something to… watch.’ Damen sounded distracted.

‘A movie or…’ Laurent trailed off. ‘Damen, do you mean a _special_ movie because of this whole debacle?’

‘You mean my very beautiful boyfriend telling me how he accidentally bought dick vegetables and lube, and then loudly insinuating to a woman in a public place that he was going to stick them up his ass?’ Damen made a noncommittal noise like he’d shrugged. ‘No, that has nothing to do with the mental image I have.’

‘Damen.’

‘I’m sorry. I truly am. I don’t –’

‘Want to pressure me, I know.’ Laurent clicked the button on his keys to unlock his car, and swung his groceries onto the passenger seat. ‘Do you want me to give you some alone time?’

‘You’re not mad at me, are you?’ Damen asked, sounding more present in the conversation than he’d been a few moments ago. ‘I’m not like, _actively –_ ’

‘I’m not mad, Damen.’

‘You’re – oh. Okay.’

‘I’m about to drive home. I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a good night.’

‘Are you sure you’re not mad?’ Damen asked. ‘I shouldn’t have said anything.’

‘No, it’s fine, I promise. I know you have… needs. That I’m not filling. I’m just… not yet.’

‘I know, I’m okay with it.’

‘Okay.’

‘We’re good?’ Damen asked.

‘We’re good,’ Laurent agreed. ‘Have fun. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

‘Okay, drive safe.’

‘I will. Don’t sprain a wrist,’ Laurent said wryly.

Damen laughed. ‘No promises. See you tomorrow.’

Laurent smiled and hung up, and drove home with the thought of his trip with Damen tomorrow in the back of his mind.

And if, when he unpacked and put away his groceries, he lingered a little on the cucumber before putting it in the fridge, then that was okay. If he folded his new reusable bag and added it to his stash then grabbed his bottle of lube and went to his room, he was allowed to.

If he dug around in his toy box and found what he was looking for – something he imagined to be Damen’s size – and thought of how Damen was touching himself because Laurent had barely made suggestion to doing this, then that was purely at his discretion.

***

 **Damen:  
**i'm on the way!  
you’ve still got that cucumber, right?

 **Me:  
**yes, damen.  
untouched. in my fridge.

 **Damen:  
**cool :) see you soon!

Laurent slipped his phone into his pocket and grabbed the backpack of stuff he’d organised for their trip to the beach, including the new sunscreen he’d bought last night. He’d put his hair into a braid to keep it out of his face, and was probably the most casually dressed Damen had ever seen him, and when he arrived, it was like his brain shorted out for a second at the shorts and Birkenstocks Laurent was in.

‘Hello, Damen,’ Laurent said, eyebrow raised.

Damen blinked. ‘You’re wearing… shorts.’

‘Yes.’

‘I can see your legs.’

‘Yes.’

Damen nodded as he processed this. ‘Okay. Great. Cucumber?’

‘In my fridge. Do you need to cut it? Or are we just taking a whole cucumber to the beach?’

‘I thought we could eat it like a corn on the cob,’ Damen said. ‘Thoughts?’

‘Hmm,’ Laurent went to get the cucumber from the fridge. ‘I think if you’re going to eat a cucumber like a corn on the cob in a _public place_ , then you can go by yourself.’

‘You know what? That’s valid. But no, I have a knife with me, we can cut it there.’

‘In the sand?’

‘Why not? Adds some danger and excitement, I think.’

‘Fine, but if you get sand on it, I’m not eating it.’

‘Good thing I don’t intend to get sand on it,’ Damen said, shooting Laurent a pair of finger guns. ‘Let’s go.’

Laurent locked up his apartment and followed Damen down to his car, surprisingly clean and tidy. Damen’s driving was also surprising – very calm and not at all like Auguste’s, because he apparently had a death wish, and was intending to drive himself to Hell and take Laurent with him when he did.

Damen even let Laurent choose some music, also unlike Auguste who would threaten him for even _looking_ at his playlist.

Overall, it was a very pleasant drive. The wind was warm, and the day looked like it would be sunny, but not overwhelmingly hot, which would make for a nice beach trip. Laurent wasn’t a fan of getting scorched by burning sand.

They arrived and got a good park, and gathered their stuff from the back seat, including a large cooler bag Damen had apparently stocked with food.

The beach was quiet, which made sense with it being a weekday, and they easily found a nice, sheltered spot to set up all their stuff, which, apparently included a large picnic blanket Damen had taken from the car without Laurent noticing.

‘I should’ve brought one of those big umbrellas,’ Damen frowned, as if he’d just looked at Laurent and remembered how pale he was, and how easily he’d probably burn.

‘I have super strength sunscreen,’ Laurent said, sitting on the blanket and digging through his bag, pulling it out triumphantly.

‘Oh, that’s helpful,’ Damen said, flopping down beside Laurent. ‘What else have you got in there?’

‘That’s a secret.’

‘I like secrets.’

‘Great, then you should be able to keep your hands off my bag, huh?’

Damen frowned. ‘What’s in there? Seriously?’

‘Nothing much,’ Laurent shrugged. ‘Just like, a towel, spare clothes. A book.’

‘I was hoping you were gonna say like, supplies to build a sandcastle with.’

‘No, that would be my other backpack, unfortunately.’

‘Oh.’

Laurent sat back on his hands, legs stretched out in front of him, and took a deep breath as he looked out over the ocean. ‘I missed the beach.’

Damen nodded and looked the same way. ‘Me too. I used to go a lot when I still lived in Ios, because it’s so unavoidable. Here, it’s like a conscious decision to go to the beach, even though it’s not that far.’

‘Arles doesn’t really have beaches,’ Laurent sighed, gazing out over the crashing blue, squinting a little despite his sunglasses as the sun sparkled across the top of the waves. ‘The closest ones are pebble beaches and always windy.’

‘Relaxing.’

Laurent hummed. ‘It’s nice not needing a full wetsuit if I want to go swimming at a beach.’

Damen gave a low whistle. ‘You in a wetsuit though.’

Laurent raised an eyebrow at Damen, who giggled in response. ‘Bold of you to assume I’d ever wear a wetsuit.’

‘Even to swim at a beach near Arles?’

‘The only people who swim near Arles fear nothing and no one.’

‘Does that include you?’

‘Of course not,’ Laurent scoffed. ‘My greatest fear is seaweed touching my leg while I swim.’

‘Understandable,’ Damen nodded sagely. ‘That being said, do you want to go for a swim?’

Laurent shook his head. ‘I want to just lie here for a bit. You can go ahead, though.’

Damen raised an eyebrow as he stood and shucked his shirt, dumping it at Laurent’s side and dropping his sunglasses on top. ‘Be right back.’

Laurent hummed, using the cover of his sunglasses to run his eyes slowly over Damen’s body. ‘Let me know how the water is.’

Damen saluted as he turned around and headed to the water, rolling his shoulders, probably purely for Laurent’s benefit.

As Damen waded into the water, Laurent slyly took out his phone. If he took a couple of quick photos, that was totally his business. Maybe he just liked the beach. The fact that he made one the lockscreen of his phone, with Damen neatly centred at the bottom, was a complete coincidence. If Laurent also _watched_ Damen swan around in the water for a bit, that was also his business.

When his phone started ringing, Laurent didn’t bother to tear his eyes away from where Damen’s wet shoulders were gleaming with water. ‘What do you want, Auguste?’

‘That’s no way to greet your favourite brother,’ Auguste replied, affronted.

‘You’re my only brother, there’s not a lot of competition. What do you want?’

‘Wow, you’re so rude,’ Auguste sighed. ‘Can you come down early?’

‘What? Why?’

‘We’re just having… a few hitches with everything.’

‘Sort it out, I’m not a wedding planner. You have like, a week and a half.’

Auguste made a weird, strangled noise. ‘What if there’s something else?’

Laurent frowned. ‘Is there?’

‘Maybe?’

‘What’s going on? Do you have cold feet or something?’

‘I don’t know,’ Auguste admitted.

‘Don’t know what?’ Laurent asked. ‘If you want to marry Nik? Or if you have cold feet?’

‘No, I definitely want to marry him.’

‘Then you don’t have cold feet.’

‘But I’m nervous!’

Laurent sighed. ‘That’s normal, Auguste.’

‘How would you know?’ Auguste demanded.

‘I watch a lot of rom-coms.’

‘Oh, fuck off, you do not. You watch boring history documentaries, and we both know it.’

‘That – you know what? You should shut up.’

‘Why, because I’m right?’

Laurent narrowed his eyes. ‘Why are you nervous?’

‘Do I…’ Auguste trailed off, and Laurent didn’t interrupt as he let him get his thoughts together. ‘Do I, like, deserve him?’

‘You – what? Where is this coming from?’ Laurent asked. ‘Are you seriously jumping on _that_ train right now?’

‘Yes!’ Auguste said. ‘I’m stressing, okay? I’m having a lot of thoughts!’

‘Well, that’s not one you need to have!’

‘How do you know that though!’

‘Because I’m not an idiot!’

‘There’s a strong argument to be made that you are!’

‘I thought you were trying to convince me to come sort your problems?’ Laurent asked. ‘Is this the way you want to go about it?’

‘Apparently so!’ Auguste groaned. ‘Look, please just – Laurent, I’m a mess. You like cleaning up my messes.’

‘Literally when have I ever said that.’

‘I’m sure you have.’

‘Nope.’

‘Laurent, please.’

Laurent was quiet for a moment, smiling as Damen waved to him from the water. ‘You deserve him, Auguste. I can’t stop you from feeling it, but I can say you don’t need to. You wouldn’t be getting married if Nik didn’t want to spend the rest of his life with you, okay?’

‘You just went a bit sappy there, what’s happening?’ Auguste asked suspiciously.

‘I’m at the beach with my boyfriend,’ Laurent said. ‘He puts me in a good mood, Auguste.’

‘Should I get fitted for a suit for _your_ wedding?’

‘No, not yet. Look, he’s leaving tomorrow for a different wedding, I’m going to go make out with him in the ocean for a bit, okay?’

‘What?’

‘I’m going to hang up on you. Send me a text when you want me there and I’ll change my flight. I need to go.’

‘Laurent –’

‘No, I’ll talk to you later, bye, Auguste,’ Laurent said, pulling the phone from his ear and hanging up on his brother’s protests. He dropped his phone on his towel and covered it with his discarded shirt, then went to join Damen in the water.

‘Hey!’ Damen called, wading in from where he’d been chest deep in the water. ‘Who was on the phone?’

‘My brother,’ Laurent rolled his eyes and leaned up to peck Damen’s cheek. ‘Apparently I’m also being called in early.’

‘When are you leaving?’

‘No idea. He’s going to let me know when he wants me there so I can plan everything accordingly.’ Laurent sighed. ‘Apparently I enjoy cleaning up his messes.’

‘Do you?’

‘Not really.’

‘I think one of the first things you told me about your brother was how you were doing pretty much everything for him for this wedding. The vows, the honeymoon, the…’

‘Pocket watch,’ Laurent swore. ‘Which I haven’t organised yet. Remind me to call my parents later.’

‘Later,’ Damen agreed. ‘Right now I have a better use for your mouth.’

‘That’s a terrible line, and you should be utterly ashamed.’

‘Consider me suitably chastened,’ Damen said, pecking his forehead. ‘Mm, sunscreen. Tasty.’

‘Yeah, well. Lobster red wouldn’t go very well with my suit.’

‘What colour is it?’

‘A very dark navy,’ Laurent said, swaying a little in the movement of the water, waves lapping at his hips. ‘Midnight blue, maybe.’

Damen hummed. ‘I think that would look _very_ nice on you.’

‘It does.’

‘Send me a photo.’

‘If I have time.’

‘I look forward to it,’ Damen said, leaning in for a kiss.

Laurent reached up on his toes, before abruptly going back down, accidentally hitting Damen’s chin on the way. ‘Shit, sorry. Hold that thought, I’m going to call my parents before I forget. I’ll be one minute and we can continue making out in the sea.’

Damen huffed and let go of Laurent’s waist, flopping backwards into the surf to submerge himself. ‘You better not be long.’

‘God, don’t be so dramatic. It’s a pocket watch, how long could it take to organise?’

***

The pocket watch did, admittedly, take longer to organise with his father than he would’ve liked, but when Laurent landed at the airport a few days later, it was to a missed call from his mother, who assured him that she had indeed managed to convince his father to lend the two he’d asked for.

‘What are you smiling at?’ Auguste asked suspiciously. ‘Your boyfriend?’

‘Uh,’ Laurent looked up. ‘No. We have the pocket watches.’

‘You got them?’ Auguste high-fived him. ‘How?’

‘Bypassed Dad and went straight to Mum.’

‘ _Nice_. Told you they’d listen to you.’

‘Uh huh,’ Laurent sent a quick _landed safely! :)_ text to Damen and slipped his phone into his pocket. ‘Now, what are you having so much trouble with?’

‘Oh, dude,’ Auguste let out a deep breath. ‘Everything.’

‘Amazing. Didn’t you have a wedding planner?’

‘Nik fired her and said we could do it ourselves,’ Auguste glanced sideways at his brother. ‘Clearly, he was wrong, and we’ve done terribly.’

‘Well, I did your honeymoon, so that won’t be terrible, at least,’ Laurent shrugged. ‘Did you make a list?’

‘A list of what?’

‘Things?’ Laurent blinked. ‘To organise for your wedding?’

‘Oh. Yes, we did do that.’

‘Did you check off everything on that list?’

‘We lost the list.’

‘Tell me you’re joking.’

Auguste grinned. ‘Yeah, of course we ticked off everything on the list.’

‘Then why is everything going wrong and terribly?’ Laurent demanded. ‘How can you fuck up when you have a _list_?’

‘I don’t know! I just feel like it’s going to shit, okay?’

‘Sorry, did you bring me here early because you had a bad feeling a week before your wedding?’ Laurent asked. ‘When, uh, you’re generally supposed to feel like that? Do you know what that feeling is, Auguste? It’s stress.’

‘This isn’t stress,’ Auguste whined. ‘This is me on the verge of a breakdown.’

‘That’s _stress_ , Auguste,’ Laurent groaned. ‘Okay, look, let’s go past a grocery store. We’ll buy snacks and ice cream and you are going to come back to my hotel and you’re going to fucking _eat the ice cream_ until you feel calm. Yes?’

‘What? No, I have a suit to wear.’

‘Okay. One tub of ice cream is not going to make your suit not fit. You will not explode into a blueberry like what’s-her-face.’

‘Violet Beauregarde,’ Auguste said absently. ‘And you don’t know that. I’m developing a sensitivity to lactose, Laurent. I might explode out my ass.’

‘Then we’ll get you some lactose-free stuff, okay? There’s some good coconut based ice creams out there.’

Auguste sighed as they reached his car, unlocking the boot to dump Laurent’s suitcase in it. ‘Fine. Nik’s out with his best man doing… I don’t know. Best man things, I assume.’

‘Oh, wow, very informative,’ Laurent muttered, climbing into the car and immediately reaching for the safety handle above the window.

Auguste dragged his eyes pointedly up to Laurent’s hand. ‘What the hell are you doing?’

‘Safety first.’

‘I’m an excellent driver,’ Auguste said, clicking his seatbelt into place. ‘How dare you?’

‘Maybe it’s also just comfortable,’ Laurent suggested. ‘Maybe it’s a great place to rest my hand.’

‘Well, maybe,’ Auguste said drily, ‘Nik and I have fucked in this car, and we didn’t clean it after I touched that handle with come on my hands.’

Laurent pulled his hand away like he’d burnt it. ‘Tell me you’re joking,’ he said, reaching into his carry on for his sanitiser. ‘Auguste, tell me you’re joking.’

Auguste shrugged as he started the car and began reversing from the park. ‘Honestly can’t tell you.’

‘New plan,’ Laurent said, squirting sanitiser into his hand and eyeing the handle suspiciously. ‘We’re taking your car to get cleaned, and they can deal with whatever the hell you’ve done in here.’

‘Nah, it’ll be fine,’ Auguste said cheerily. ‘No point, anyway.’

‘Uh, what? Why?’

‘We get carried away a lot.’

‘I fucking hate you sometimes.’

***

After getting a tub of ice cream into his brother, Laurent discovered Auguste had indeed just been stressed. He still was stressed, which made sense, and Laurent didn’t blame him for, but it was more than that. Apparently he’d been spending a lot of his time doing wedding things, and he needed someone to hang out with him that would be forced to do wedding things with him.

There wasn’t even much left to do, but after Auguste’s admission that he just kind of needed a buddy, Laurent resolved to be nicer to him. At least marginally. The only thing Auguste still really needed to do was pick up the suits and some boutonnieres, and that wouldn’t even take very long, so he decided to just go along without complaint.

The call came as Laurent was getting a final fitting for his suit, slipping his shirt on in the changing room. He was glad he’d taken his phone in with him, or Auguste would definitely have answered, and he wasn’t sure Damen would be quite ready for that.

‘Hey,’ Laurent greeted, phone wedged between his ear and his shoulder as he did the buttons. ‘What’s up?’

‘I’m bored, and I wanted to see what you were up to,’ Damen said. ‘Can we talk?’

‘Is it serious?’

‘No,’ Damen laughed. ‘Just tell me how things are going. I’m stuck looking at table placements.’

‘I’m putting on my suit now, actually,’ Laurent said, awkwardly trying to juggle his phone as he pulled the jacket on. ‘It looks good.’

‘Can I see?’

‘Not right now, you can’t,’ Laurent said, pulling open the curtain and stepping onto the dais by the mirrors. ‘Good?’ he asked Auguste and the tailor.

Auguste frowned. ‘Who’s on the phone?’

‘My boyfriend.’

‘Your boyfriend?’ Auguste smiled evilly.

‘Shit, gotta go!’ Laurent said, hanging up on Damen as Auguste launched himself.

‘Hey!’ the tailor said, stepping between them. ‘Could you not? This suit is a work of art!’

‘His fault,’ Laurent said immediately.

Auguste narrowed his eyes. ‘Why won’t you let me talk to him? Is he hideous?’

‘No. I just don’t want you to be all _you_ at him and scare him off.’

‘The suit’s fine,’ the tailor said. ‘If that helps.’

‘Brilliant, thank you,’ Auguste said graciously. ‘I won’t be weird to him, I promise.’

‘That’s a lie and we both know it,’ Laurent stepped back off and went to change back to his own clothes, sending Damen an apologetic text.

‘You can leave the suit here,’ Auguste said, once Laurent came back out. ‘The tailor’s going to have it cleaned, then we can pick it up tomorrow or the day after.’

‘Sure,’ Laurent shrugged, looking at his phone as it started ringing again. ‘Don’t grab my phone.’

Auguste rolled his eyes, but waved a hand as Laurent answered it.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Laurent said immediately. ‘My brother was being weird.’

‘It’s fine,’ Damen replied. ‘Nothing quite as exciting as being hung up on while looking at forks.’

‘Yeah, no, I bet.’

‘Where is this wedding, by the way? I don’t think we’ve actually said.’

‘I’m in Ios. Your home-city, yeah? It’s nice.’

‘Laurent,’ Damen said, his voice low and excited. ‘I’m also in Ios.’

‘No – you are?’

‘Yeah! Where are you staying?’

‘It’s like – what’s my hotel called?’ Laurent asked.

‘The Palatial,’ Auguste replied, looking down at his own phone.

‘Did he say The Palatial?’

‘He did,’ Laurent confirmed. ‘You know it?’

‘Babe, I’m on the fifth floor.’

‘Of The Palatial?’

‘Of The Palatial,’ Damen said. ‘Where are you?’

‘Eighth. Are you busy tonight?’ Laurent asked. ‘We could meet up.’

‘I’m free as a bird. I’ve been given the night off so my friend can fuck his fiancé one last time as unmarried men or whatever. I’ll be up at about seven? We can order room service? I’ll pay.’

Laurent smiled. ‘Sounds perfect. I’ll text you my room number and see you then.’

‘Alright, see you later.’

‘And who was that?’ Auguste asked, eyeing Laurent, even though he clearly already knew.

‘That was my boyfriend,’ Laurent said, texting his room number quickly to Damen. ‘He’s at a wedding and that wedding is in Ios.’

‘Is he staying at your hotel?’

‘Yeah! Weird, right?’

‘Hey, tell me a thing,’ Auguste said, pulling his sunglasses down from where they’d been perched in his hair. ‘What’s his name? Just first name, I’m not gonna go and stalk him on social media or anything.’

Laurent eyed his brother suspiciously. ‘Damen. Why?’

‘Damen, huh? Akielon name?’

‘Yeah, why?’

Auguste made an indecipherable noise. ‘No reason.’

***

‘Hey, where’s Auguste gone to today?’ Damen said, as he and Nik reviewed the final place settings and table arrangements. They were at the venue, an old Akielon palace that Nik and Auguste had managed to nab through some family connections. It was all classical architecture and marble walls, lots of long winding hallways and great halls and ballrooms. Damen was fairly certain if Laurent was there, he would absolutely love it.

‘He and his brother were going to get their suits done or something. Boutonnieres as well? Just a bunch of little things,’ Nik said, nudging one of the table settings slightly, frowning when the leaves continued to droop. ‘These are whole plants, not cuttings, and it’s like this?’

Damen looked at the plant Nik was poking and sighed. ‘It just needs water.’

‘Why aren’t they being watered?’

‘Dude, I don’t know what to tell you.’

‘I need to go find someone, stay here,’ Nik said, walking off without another word.

Damen rolled his eyes and pulled his phone out. Surely Laurent would be doing something fun.

‘Hey,’ Laurent said, as soon as the call connected. His voice sounded kind of… smooshed? ‘What’s up?’

‘I’m bored, and I wanted to see what you were up to,’ Damen said, hearing the faintest echo, like Laurent was in a tiny room. ‘Can we talk?’

‘Is it serious?’

‘No,’ Damen smiled. ‘Just tell me how things are going. I’m stuck looking at table placements.’

‘I’m putting on my suit now, actually,’ Laurent said, which explained the tone of his voice and the weird echo effect. ‘It looks good.’

Laurent in a suit _sounded_ good. ‘Can I see?’

‘Not right now, you can’t,’ Laurent said, before his voice turned from his phone. ‘Good?’

There was a very faint conversation in the background before Laurent said, ‘My boyfriend,’ and then almost immediately after, ‘Shit, gotta go!’ and Damen was unceremoniously hung up on.

He could guess what was going on, and decided to let Laurent have a few minutes, as he walked around the room to inspect the rest of the plants and settings. They were collections of ferns gathered at the base of some weird, trumpeting thing that could only have been Auguste’s influence. But there were only so many plants to see, and Damen was bored. Surprisingly, not even the antique silverware was holding his attention.

Laurent picked up on the third ring of Damen’s call. ‘I’m so sorry, my brother was being weird.’

‘It’s fine,’ Damen said – he’d figured as much and _knew_ as much, seeing as Laurent had sent him a text. ‘Nothing quite as exciting as being hung up on while looking at forks.’

‘Yeah, no, I bet,’ Laurent agreed.

‘Where is this wedding, by the way?’ Damen asked, realising he and Laurent had actually spent very little time discussing the reason they’d even met. ‘I don’t think we’ve actually said.’

‘I’m in Ios. Your home-city, yeah? It’s nice.’

Ios? Damen was in Ios. ‘Laurent,’ Damen said quietly, afraid if he spoke any louder then his excitement would be far too obvious. ‘I’m also in Ios.’

‘No – you are?’

‘Yeah! Where are you staying?’

‘It’s like – what’s my hotel called?’

‘The Palatial,’ someone – probably Laurent’s brother – replied.

‘Did he say The Palatial?’ Damen asked.

‘He did. You know it?’

Damen took a steadying breath. ‘Babe, I’m on the fifth floor.’

‘Of The Palatial?’

‘Of The Palatial,’ Damen confirmed. ‘Where are you?’

‘Eighth. Are you busy tonight? We could meet up.’

‘I’m free as a bird,’ Damen said, almost giddy with excitement. ‘I’ve been given the night off so my friend can fuck his fiancé one last time as unmarried men or whatever. I’ll be up at about seven? We can order room service? I’ll pay.’

‘Sounds perfect,’ Laurent said softly. ‘I’ll text you my room number and see you then.’

‘Alright, see you later,’ Damen grinned, hanging up the phone, timed perfectly with Nik’s reappearance in the great hall. ‘Hey! Fix the plant situation?’

‘Yeah, they’re coming to water them soon,’ Nik said, flicking his eyes over Damen suspiciously. ‘Why do you look so happy?’

‘My boyfriend’s in town. In The Palatial. What are the coincidences?’

Nik shrugged. ‘Small world, dude.’

Damen nodded. ‘I guess so. Hey, question?’

‘Yeah?’

‘What’s Auguste’s brother’s name? I feel like I should know it if we’re going to spend a wedding together.’

‘Laurent,’ Nik said. ‘Like, the genetics are strong in their family. Blond and blue eyed and tall. You’ll know him when you see him.’

Damen’s stomach did a weird flip as he considered that information. ‘Yeah,’ he said, laughing nervously, realising he already _knew_ Auguste’s Laurent. ‘I’m sure I will.’

***

‘Are you okay?’ Laurent asked, as he lounged against Damen’s side.

Damen looked down at the blond head tucked almost into his armpit as Laurent snuggled into him. ‘Yeah, no, I’m great,’ Damen said, patting his arm reassuringly.

Apparently not that reassuring. ‘No, something’s wrong,’ Laurent said slowly. ‘Why did you… _tap_ me like that?’

‘I didn’t tap you, I patted you.’

‘You tapped me. Why did you tap me? What’s wrong?’

Damen chewed on his bottom lip. How did you tell someone you knew their brother and found him slightly terrifying? ‘Yeah, I – no, all good.’

‘Hmm, okay. We’ll pretend I believe you.’ Laurent pulled his knees up, folding his feet under himself. ‘You know you can talk to me about things that bother you, right?’

Damen nodded. ‘Yeah, I know, I just… What’s your brother like? In your opinion?’

‘Oh,’ Laurent frowned. ‘I think he’s good, I guess? He’s my best friend.’

‘But what’s he _like_?’ Damen asked. ‘When it comes to you? Your boyfriends?’

‘ _Oh_ ,’ Laurent said again, laughing this time. ‘He’s very protective. He likes knowing everything so he’s in the loop and can judge better than me. I haven’t told him anything except that I think you’re great though, so I think you’re safe from his tiny fists.’

Auguste did not have tiny fists, Damen had seen them. He did, however, think Auguste liked him, but maybe that was just before he knew Damen was dating his brother. Assuming that Laurent was indeed Nik’s Auguste’s brother. It would be too much of a coincidence if he wasn’t. ‘What’s your brother’s name?’

‘Auguste.’

 _Fuck_. ‘Oh.’

‘What?’

‘Nothing.’

‘I think he’ll like you,’ Laurent said, reaching forward to the desserts on the table. There was still some of the mango mousse left, and it looked like he was claiming it. He took a spoonful, then held out another one for Damen, which he tentatively licked off the spoon.

‘Do you, though?’ Damen asked. ‘He won’t kill me for touching his little brother?’

‘Well, your one saving grace is that we haven’t fucked yet,’ Laurent said lightly, scooping more mousse onto his spoon and sliding it gracefully into his mouth. He eyed Damen pointedly. ‘So there’s that.’

‘Yeah,’ Damen repeated. ‘There’s that.’

***

 **Damen:  
**hey! how's your morning going?  
apparently there’s someone here to do my hair bc i can’t lol

 **Me:  
**how hard is it to put your hair in a bun tho  
oh yeah it’s fine i suppose  
someone’s here to brush my hair as well  
when did i become incapable of brushing my own hair?

 **Damen:  
**you do have a lot of hair  
idk how u keep it so soft and shiny

 **Me:  
**first off.  
thank u for calling it soft and shiny :)  
second. i have like, the same amount of hair as you?  
probably less?

 **Damen:  
**i mean. yeah. fair.  
brother going crazy yet?

 **Me:  
**i realise you haven’t met my brother so you don’t know this about him  
but he’s off the chain at all times  
so “going crazy yet” is like? no he hasn’t peaked yet  
how’s it going on your end?

 **Damen:  
**yeah i mean. we're okay.  
last minute questioning of the vows but it’s fine  
do i get a suit selfie yet **😎**

 **Me:  
**no!!!  
im in pyjamas still  
….  
later

 **Damen:  
**can’t wait **😘  
**i gtg, ttyl x

 **Me:  
**good luck! see you tonight :)

‘Stop smiling,’ Auguste said, launching a pair of rolled up socks across the room at Laurent. ‘You’re making me nervous.’

‘Why? Because I’m texting Damen?’ Laurent asked, tossing the socks back.

‘Yes. You’re not allowed to be relaxed on the morning of my wedding.’

‘I’m not getting married, I don’t need to be stressed.’

‘You do, actually. Sympathetic suffering or something.’

‘That’s not a thing. Drink your mimosa and shut up.’

‘He’s been stressing us out for weeks,’ Jord, one of the groomsmen said, taking a bite from his bagel. ‘Good luck making him stop.’

‘Well let’s put it this way,’ Laurent said, going across to the platters of breakfast food against one wall. ‘If he dies of stress in the next two hours, he’s not going to get wedding dick tonight.’

‘You know what,’ Auguste said, draining his mimosa. ‘I’ve never felt calmer in my life.’

Laurent smiled, tipping his juice at him in a salute. ‘That’s the spirit.’

***

‘You know your place, yeah?’ Auguste asked, straightening his jacket as they made their way down the stairs.

‘Yeah, of course,’ Laurent said. ‘Go in after Jord, wait for the other best man, you and Nik come in after us. It’s fine.’

‘Okay,’ Auguste took a deep breath as they arrived at the doors of the venue’s great hall. ‘Okay. We’re here. I look okay?’

‘You look fine,’ Jord said, straightening his own tie.

‘I’m sorry, _fine_?’ Auguste demanded. ‘I’m getting married, I better look fucking _hot_.’

‘You look super hot,’ Lazar, another groomsman offered. ‘The hottest you’ve ever looked.’

‘Thank you. That’s an appropriate response.’

Auguste flicked his eyes to the other set of stairs as footsteps started coming from them – Nik and his groomsmen. ‘Right. Line up. I’m going back up.’

‘What?’ Laurent asked, bewildered, as his brother disappeared. ‘What the fuck?’

‘So Nik doesn’t see me!’ Auguste hissed from somewhere up the stairs. ‘Get in a line!’

Laurent rolled his eyes and lined up behind Jord. They’d practiced the intervals in the room upstairs last night, so Laurent knew his cue to go in. He’d have a few seconds to introduce himself to Nik’s best man, so that would be nice.

As Nik’s groomsmen started lining up with the person they were escorting, Laurent realised he’d forgotten to take a selfie in his suit for Damen. He reached into his pocket to quickly whip out his phone and rectify the situation, but was stopped in his tracks by the other best man.

‘Suit looks good.’

Laurent blinked and looked up from his phone. ‘Damen?’ he whispered. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Your brother is marrying my best friend,’ Damen said, shrugging awkwardly. ‘Surprise, I guess.’

‘Did you know?’

‘I figured it out.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘I…’ Damen pursed his lips, offering his arm as the doors opened and the entrance song began. ‘I didn’t know if you wanted Auguste to know or not and… yeah, weak excuse. Probably should’ve said, I’m sorry.’

‘It’s…’ Laurent swallowed, placing his hand on Damen’s arm. ‘I guess you’ve ended up my date anyway.’

‘Good surprise, then?’

‘I –’ Laurent laughed quietly. ‘My brother was going to set me up with you if I didn’t have a date. He said Nik’s best man was exactly my type.’

‘Was he right?’ Damen asked, a twinkle in his eye.

‘Completely.’

‘Good to hear. Ready?’

‘Ready,’ Laurent agreed, and together, they walked in.

They didn’t talk as they went down the aisle, and though Laurent was a little annoyed Damen hadn’t said anything, he was glad the other best man wasn’t some stranger. He felt so calm as they walked, not at all uncomfortable like he’d anticipated. As they reached the front, Laurent dropped his hand from Damen’s arm, and they spent a few seconds watching each other.

Damen’s suit looked _good_ on him. The tailor had done an excellent job making sure his suit hugged everything perfectly, and really, Laurent would’ve been content to stand there staring at him for the rest of the day.

He reluctantly dragged his eyes back up to Damen’s face from where he’d been staring at his legs, and bit his lip when Damen winked, like he knew what Laurent had been thinking.

And then Laurent’s rather wonderful view was obstructed by his brother and fiancé arriving.

The ceremony was sweet. Simple and touching, with a fair amount of crying at the vows. Laurent had helped write Auguste’s, but even he got a little teary-eyed at the delivery, and at the way they so clearly touched Nik.

Damen had stepped a little to the side at some point, so Laurent could see him a little clearer, and it was during the vows that he looked up at Laurent.

There was a moment there. Laurent didn’t know what it was, but there was something. He wanted to ask Damen what it was, but there would be plenty of time for it later. As he listened to Auguste and Nik profess their love for each other, in pretty prose and beautiful words, some of which he’d helped to write, he caught Damen watching him and…

He wondered if that was it.

Maybe a few things were resonating with Damen. Maybe he was finding the parallels in Laurent’s words, even after five weeks. Nothing too serious, just the comfort, the laughter, the shift that brought a little more joy and colour into everyday life.

Laurent found himself making a very unimpressed noise as Auguste added a line to his vows, leaning forward to whisper the line about sex that Laurent had deleted at least four times from the Google doc he and Auguste had been collaboratively writing his vows in. At least it got a giggle from Nik and Damen – the only two close enough to hear, except the celebrant – so that was something, at least. Something cute, Laurent supposed, something shared just between Nik and Auguste that was clearly important to mention.

And then it was done.

As the celebrant declared them husbands, Nik and Auguste _went_ for it – tongues, groping, yanked lapels, the whole nine yards – until being forcibly stopped by Damen clearing his throat rather loudly.

They made their way back down the aisle, off to take photos in the palace’s grounds, and Damen offered his arm once more to Laurent.

‘They were nice vows,’ he said, as Laurent tried to keep them a respectful distance back from his brother and Nik.

‘Auguste’s?’ Laurent asked.

‘Yeah, you helped write them, didn’t you?’

‘If you’re going to ask about that last thing, I want it made clear I deleted it so many times from the document. Auguste apparently just really wanted it in.’

‘Did you hear what he said?’ Damen made a noise. ‘Oddly graphic for a wedding.’

‘I know,’ Laurent sighed dejectedly. ‘At least he said it quietly.’

‘Yeah, not really the sort of thing you want to announce in front of your family.’

‘Not really the sort of thing you want to force your family to read over and over again, either,’ Laurent muttered.

‘Yeah, I’ll give you that,’ Damen said, as they arrived at the doors to the hall. ‘Are we supposed to follow them?’

‘Yeah, I think they want photos with whole wedding party.’

‘We should probably –’

‘Probably.’

Damen hummed and followed Nik and Auguste’s rapidly disappearing forms out to the gardens. ‘Have I mentioned how nice you look?’ he asked quietly, as they came to a stop on one of the lawns, where the photographer was arranging things and taking photos already.

‘Maybe,’ Laurent said, ‘but you can say it as many times as you like.’

‘You look really nice,’ Damen said again. ‘Beautiful. The colour really… you know.’

‘Sets off the blond? Makes me look luminous, like the moon? Very pale?’

‘Well, we’ll have to see if you glow or not, but I’m a big fan of looking at the moon. Celestial bodies in general, really.’

‘Are you saying I have a celestial body?’

Damen glanced sideways at him, a certain glint in his eye. ‘I’ll let you know when I see it.’

‘You do that,’ Laurent said, as he bit his lower lip into his mouth, trying to hide a smile as Auguste waved them over.

‘Would you two stop being so flirty?’ Auguste said. ‘Don’t you both have boyfriends?’

Damen laughed awkwardly, looking back down to Laurent with fear in his eyes. ‘Yes. I suppose we do.’

‘Surprise,’ Laurent said drily. ‘I think even you can figure this one out, Auguste.’

Auguste grinned, slapping them each on the shoulder. ‘Small world, huh?’

‘Absolutely tiny,’ Damen agreed.

‘Okay, well, in the meantime, please don’t take the focus off me in my own wedding photos,’ Auguste said. ‘Be cute later.’

‘Yeah, sure,’ Laurent rolled his eyes. ‘Hey, do me a favour?’

‘What?’

‘Tell Damen you aren’t going to kill him?’

‘Jury’s still out on that one!’ Auguste said cheerfully. ‘Get in the photo.’

***

The photos went well. Maybe a few too many lingering gazes between Damen and Laurent, maybe a few too many touches that were a little too telling, like Laurent fixing Damen’s tie and patting his chest on the way back. Maybe Laurent hadn’t dropped Damen’s arm yet, either. That was a thing, too, but the photographer seemed to love them, even grabbing them for a couple of photos of _just the best men for a moment_.

The reception was beautiful. The settings and table arrangements were stunning, and Damen and Laurent had been dumped together at a table with a few other groomsmen and random guests. They tried to keep it toned down, but over the course of the night as the atmosphere started reaching party-level, they got looser and looser with their exchanges and touches.

Laurent was very unceremoniously introduced to Nikandros as his brother-in-law, before Auguste whipped him back onto the dancefloor, and Laurent returned to Damen’s arms, where he spent the rest of the evening.

Maybe he’d had some wine, and he just felt warm and happy, and wanted to bask in it a little. He got some odd looks, but not many, because as Auguste had spent months telling him, it was tradition for the best man and maid of honour (or in this case, the two best men) to hook up. Maybe everyone just figured he and Damen had really hit it off.

They danced for a good amount of the night, too, and by the end of it, Laurent wanted nothing more than to take his damn shoes off. He was glad Auguste had booked rooms for the wedding party (and a couple of others) at the palace for the night, so all he had to do was stand and declare himself retiring for the night.

He was halfway to the elevator before he realised he’d forgotten to bring Damen, but it was no matter, because as he stood waiting for the doors to open, a pair of hands landed on his waist.

‘You need an escort back to your room?’ Damen murmured.

Laurent smiled and turned around to lace his fingers behind Damen’s neck, as the door dinged open and he tugged him backwards into the lift. He kept going until his back hit the wall, and Damen started slapping towards the panel to hit the floor they were on.

‘Dammit,’ Damen said, turning out of Laurent’s grip for a moment to hit the button properly. ‘Can you wait to distract me until we’re at our floor?’

‘Nope,’ Laurent said, going to his toes to bring Damen into a kiss, as he slipped one hand inside his unbuttoned jacket and around to his back. ‘How do you feel about being a cliché?’

Damen grabbed onto the rail beside them as Laurent moved his mouth down his neck. ‘Depends what kind of cliché.’

‘The best men fucking cliché.’

‘I am very much in favour of being a cliché,’ Damen decided, using his other hand to steady Laurent. ‘Wasn’t that in your bio on Tinder?’

Laurent hummed, scratching his teeth lightly at the side of Damen’s throat. ‘Fuck me in my suit, yes.’

‘I’m very fond of this suit.’

‘Then you’re gonna have to be careful, aren’t you?’

Damen groaned as Laurent pulled his hand around from his back, running it down to palm at his hardening cock through his pants. ‘Laurent,’ he warned. ‘These pants are very tight and very expensive.’

With perfect timing, the elevator let out a gentle _ding!_ as it arrived on their floor. ‘Well,’ Laurent said, making no move to stop what he was doing. ‘We should go take them off.’

‘You’re a menace,’ Damen said, stepping away and grabbing his hand. ‘Your room or mine?’

‘What number are you in?’

‘I’m in room 415.’

‘I’m 407.’

‘Yours, then,’ Damen muttered, spotting _407_ on a door and waiting for Laurent to get his keycard out. Usually, he wouldn’t have cared and just started doing whatever he wanted in the hall, but he was absolutely certain that if he started something right now, then this would be exactly where it ended.

Laurent finally got his keycard in and pushed open the door, dragging Damen in behind him and shoving him against the back, closing the door at the same time as pinning Damen where he wanted him. He went straight back to Damen’s mouth, pawing at his clothes, like he couldn’t decide if he wanted Damen to keep them on or not.

‘Laurent, do you – _fuck –_ ’

‘Hmm?’

‘Do you really want to keep the suit on?’

‘I’m a big fan of suits.’

Damen couldn’t argue with that. ‘At least –’ he slid his hands into Laurent’s jacket and pushed it off his shoulders, as they started walking back towards the bed. He shed his own on the floor, sending a mental apology to the tailor, who would surely have a heart attack to see it in a pile like that. ‘Lube?’ he asked.

Laurent bit his lip and ran quickly to the bathroom, tossing a small tube at Damen as he came back, and handed him a condom with slightly more care. ‘That wouldn’t have been as much fun to toss,’ he murmured. ‘Are we doing this?’

Damen dropped the items on the bed and put his hands on Laurent’s hips, looking down at him in a moment of seriousness. ‘We don’t have to if it’s not something you want.’

‘I want it,’ Laurent said immediately. ‘I mean, that bio was mostly a joke, but I don’t mind following through.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes.’

Damen nodded, taking one hand to cradle Laurent’s cheek as he kissed him slowly. ‘Okay,’ he said, after breaking away. ‘Tell me if you want to stop.’

Laurent gave him a small smile and nodded. ‘Can I do one thing?’

‘Sure, what is it?’

Laurent’s smile turned into a grin as he lifted his hands and started unbuttoning Damen’s shirt. He ran his hands over the expanse of skin as he tugged at it for Damen to remove. ‘Better,’ he whispered, turning around to face the bed. ‘Let’s do this.’

‘You’re not going to look at me?’

‘It’s not fucking in a suit if I’m just in a shirt,’ Laurent turned back around to place a reassuring kiss on Damen’s shoulder. ‘But I doubt we’ll only go once tonight.’

Damen shrugged. ‘I’ll take that compromise.’

‘Good.’

Damen’s tongue darted out to wet his lower lip as he watched Laurent unbuckle his belt and slide his pants down to mid-thigh, before he bent to hold the footboard of his bed. _Gods_ , he wanted to –

‘Damen,’ Laurent said, looking back over his shoulder, ‘you can take all the time you want later, I promise.’

Damen got the hint and felt himself blush a little, as he grabbed the lube from the bed and poured a little onto the fingers of one hand, pushing between Laurent’s cheeks to circle his hole and slowly push the tip of one inside him.

Laurent clenched out of reflex, before he relaxed and nodded for Damen to keep going. ‘Sorry,’ he muttered.

‘You’re doing beautifully,’ Damen said, now with most of one finger inside him. With his other hand, he trailed around to Laurent’s chest to unbutton his shirt, rubbing a hand soothingly over his stomach as he added a second finger a minute later. ‘Good?’

Laurent nodded, pushing back against his hand. ‘Good.’

Damen slipped a third finger in, just in case, and twisted them around, scissoring them a little as with his other hand, he unbuckled his own belt and pushed his pants and boxer briefs down, his cock finally free from the confines of his pants. He let out a sigh of relief, apparently one loud enough to draw Laurent’s attention.

‘Jesus,’ Laurent breathed. ‘I have amazing taste.’

Damen blinked at the comment, before he started laughing. ‘Really?’

‘Absolutely.’

‘Not usually what people say.’

‘Oh? What do they usually say?’

‘Uh, some variation of _fuck_ ,’ Damen said, withdrawing his fingers to open the condom and roll it on, adding more lube and lining up behind Laurent, both hands on his hips. ‘Ready?’

‘Ready,’ Laurent confirmed.

Damen nodded to himself, and pushed forward slowly. He didn’t want to overwhelm Laurent, but from the gasp and the reflexive jerk backwards, he’d say he didn’t have to worry about that too much.

‘Fuck,’ Laurent moaned, once Damen’s hips were flush against his ass.

Damen let out a breathy laugh. ‘There it is.’

Laurent moved forward a little, before he went right back, adjusting to Damen inside him. ‘You’re – why does it sound so much like porn to say you’re huge?’

‘Why does it sound so much like porn to say you’re so tight?’ Damen asked.

Laurent laughed quietly. ‘You should move now, otherwise I’m going to do it for you.’

Damen sighed. He kind of wanted to just stay where he was, but he wasn’t going to object. He started off slow, gently pulling out and going back in, keeping his hands on Laurent’s hips to control the pace, but it didn’t last long before Laurent started trying to force it.

‘Damen,’ he whined. ‘Please.’

Damen groaned because, _fuck_ , he was powerless to that, and picked up the pace, moving harder and faster, as Laurent grabbed the bars at the foot of the bed, moaning and muttering filthy things that only spurred Damen on. He could feel himself getting closer, and leaned down to reach around and grab hold of Laurent’s dripping cock, stroking him in time to his own thrusts.

‘Damen,’ Laurent breathed, reaching back for him. ‘Wait.’

‘What?’ Damen asked, stopping immediately. ‘What is it?’

‘You were right.’

‘About?’

‘I want to see you.’

Damen pulled out and rid himself of the rest of his clothes, kicking shoes in different directions, and flinging his pants off to a corner, as he watched Laurent strip and lie on his back on the bed. His shirt was still tangled around his elbows, his face flushed and eyes bright as he watched Damen stalk forward and climb onto the bed between his legs. ‘Yeah?’ he asked.

‘Yeah,’ Laurent confirmed, pulling him into a kiss, as Damen pushed back in. He gasped against Damen’s lips and twisted the fingers of one of their hands together as Damen got them back on track.

Damen tipped his head onto Laurent’s chest as he chased his climax, using one hand to keep himself propped up, and the other to touch Laurent. First his chest – a nipple, over his ribs, then down to his thigh, hitching it over his waist before going back to Laurent’s cock.

‘I’m gonna –’ Laurent gasped again, tightening his fingers around Damen’s and scratching down his back with his free hand.

Damen nodded, slamming once, twice more into Laurent, before he came with a low groan, and Laurent followed moments later, spilling into his hand.

Laurent whimpered softly as Damen pulled out, rolling onto his chest and nuzzling into his shoulder once he came back from tossing the tied condom vaguely in the direction of a trash can. ‘That didn’t go as planned,’ he said, still a little breathless. ‘I wanted to fuck in that suit.’

‘We did,’ Damen argued. ‘We just didn’t finish in it.’

‘Which is your fault.’

‘For being so irresistible?’

‘Exactly,’ Laurent agreed, placing a kiss on Damen’s neck. ‘Worth it, though.’

‘Really?’ Damen asked. ‘Even if it ruined your fantasy?’

‘There’ll be other suits,’ Laurent yawned. ‘Get that blanket.’

Damen rolled his eyes and scooped Laurent onto his chest, moving awkwardly to flick back the covers of the bed to get under them. ‘Better?’

Laurent hummed, tracing patterns on Damen’s chest. ‘Better.’

‘Are you falling asleep? What happened to more than one round?’

‘The night is young, and I am tired,’ Laurent said simply. ‘Give me an hour or something.’

Damen nodded, suddenly finding himself more tired than he’d realised. ‘An hour sounds good,’ he agreed, tightening his arms around Laurent, and quickly falling asleep to the sound of his even breathing.

***

 **Auguste:  
**I do like him, you know.  
He’s good for you.

 **Me:  
**who?

 **Auguste:  
**Damen. Obviously.

 **Me:  
**oh. thanks?

 **Auguste:  
**Is he still scared of me?

 **Me:  
**not sure, should i ask?

 **Auguste:  
**Nah. Just tell him me and Nik say hi.

 **Me:  
**will do

‘Question.’

Damen looked up from his book for a moment. ‘Yeah?’

‘Are you still afraid of my brother?’ Laurent asked, nudging his way under Damen’s arm.

‘That feels like a loaded question.’

‘Maybe it is.’

Damen narrowed his eyes, folding his book closed over his thumb. ‘It’s been like six months since he found out you’re dating me, and you think I’m still scared of him?’

‘Yes.’

‘You’re right.’

Laurent grinned. ‘He says hi, by the way. So does Nik.’

‘Are you talking to him right now?’

‘No, I was, but he asked and I wasn’t totally sure of the answer. I think it’s cute.’

‘That I’m scared of your brother?’

‘That you’re sticking with me even though you think he’s going to kick your ass.’

Damen hummed, trailing his fingers over Laurent’s arm absently. ‘It’s true, I only asked you to move in so you could protect me from him.’

‘You think he’s going to turn up here in the middle of the night or something?’ Laurent asked, elbowing him gently in the ribs. ‘I think once he realises you sleep naked most of the time, he’ll run away.’

‘It’s not most of the time, it’s just after…’

‘Which is most of the time.’

Damen made a noise and pushed himself further into the beaten leather of his couch, his eyes flicking over Laurent’s unlocked phone still on his knee. ‘You still have Tinder on your phone.’

Laurent frowned. ‘No, I don’t.’

‘Yeah,’ Damen tapped on the folder he could see the tiny flame hiding in. ‘You do.’

‘Huh.’ Laurent hadn’t realised it was still on his phone. He’d moved it into a folder of things he didn’t use but didn’t know if he should delete, after he and Damen started texting instead. Apparently he’d just forgotten about it.

‘That’s a little rude of you,’ Damen said. ‘I thought I meant more to you.’

It was joking, and Damen knew it, especially since the folder was labelled _Things I Should Probably Delete_. Still, it brought a blush to Laurent’s cheeks, and he tapped into the app and quickly deactivated his account. ‘Guess I don’t need it anymore, do I?’

‘Nope,’ Damen grinned, dropping a kiss to his head.

‘Don’t get too cocky,’ Laurent said, holding his finger on it, tapping the cross, and deleting the app from his phone. ‘I can still redownload it.’

‘But you won’t.’

‘You’re right,’ Laurent said, tilting his head up for another kiss from Damen. ‘I won’t.’

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/daamiaanos) and [tumblr](http://damiaanos.tumblr.com)!


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